Between Blue Eyes
by SavageHope
Summary: Shepard finally lets him in...and finds peace can be found between blue eyes. Rated M for adult themes.
1. Contemplation

The start of the hot water was the mind's cue to bow out. Lately, it felt the only time Shepard was ever able to relax was here, leaning against the heated tiles, hot spray sliding down her skin and soothing tense muscles. It was one of the only times she let go, let her mind leave her and simply exist without outside problems, without worry, without concern.

She had a lot of those.

Maybe too many of those…

Her crew counted on her, counted on her being sharp, being ready, being prepared…she couldn't afford to be lax. She couldn't afford to take it easy. She was always thinking, always checking the reports, the status of the ship, the status of the crew…there was little rest and little idle time.

…Not to mention she hated idle time. Being idle gave room for thought of all that she'd lost, all that could yet be lost. And she didn't want to think about that, didn't want to voice or think her concerns. Letting them infiltrate her mind would only bring on weakness, bring on vulnerability…and she couldn't afford that.

She was an image, an idol, a representation of strength for her crew and those counting on her to get the job done. She couldn't allow herself to break, to cry.

She wouldn't cry.

Wouldn't.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the shower wall, mind gone for the moment, simply trying to enjoy the only time she ever got to relax, trying to forget about everything for a moment, forget about the job, the reapers…everything.

If she was lucky her mind would allow her to and she'd doze, semi-conscious in the shower stall…She looked forward to it when it happened, barely able to sleep in her own bed because of dreams that taunted and teased her. Any sleep was better than none…even if was just seconds of time.

Turning the knob to shut off the spray, she wearily reached out to snag a towel and wrap it around her waist. Stiffly, she made her way into her bedroom, leafing through her garments to pick out the ones suitable, feeling sore muscles protesting as she slipped into clean clothes.

Ignoring them, she quickly scanned through her email, blue eyes flicking over the screens she pulled up and put away, judging their importance with a practiced eye. She sent a reply back to Anderson, updating him on their progress, and signed out, sitting in the semi-dark for a moment in silence, brooding.

Her mind wandered to her crew, her teammates, picturing their faces and trying to decide who to take with her on their next mission, trying not to picture losing any of them. She couldn't take that, couldn't live with that…

Her door hissed open, startling her out of her reverie, and she turned to see a familiar shadow resting against the doorframe.

"Garrus…"

His head tilted slightly in answer, but he lingered in the doorway as if unsure he were truly welcome in her quarters.

She smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes, and he noticed…he always noticed. He came to her then, reaching for her, pulling her into his arms. It was only here that he ever showed true affection, only here that she allowed herself to be held, consoled, comforted.

He meant a lot to her, kept her sane, watched her back…and seeing him almost die in front of her was something she never wanted to be witness to again. He'd always meant much to her…and after two years of being dead, well…she hadn't expected to see him again. Holding him felt like a privilege…she'd never dreamed it would happen, never dreamed he'd agree to finding a way to "blow off steam", as he'd put it.

There had always been something there, something she'd always wanted to explore between them…but hadn't. Neither of them had. And it surprised her that Garrus was interested, wanted to try.

His fingers slipped beneath her mane of auburn hair, gently massaging the tight muscles in her neck, his face brushing the top of her head in a silent touch of affection.

Truthfully, the blowing off steam hadn't happened yet. They were uncharacteristically shy around one another, letting down barriers only away from public eye, two generally stoic individuals easing up only around each other.

"How are you feeling…?" She asked, fingers gently running over the healing scars on his face. It hadn't happened that long ago…and she could still see him lying on the cold floor with his blue blood pooling out around him.

"Better…you know I'm ready and able for whenever you need me."

"I know…" she whispered along his neck, fingers deftly undoing pieces of his armor as he walked them toward her bed. She liked touching him, loved it, really, and didn't hide it from him. He'd been pleasantly surprised when he'd found out, thinking their differences would put her off…but in fact it fascinated her, intrigued her.

He was beautiful, attractive, sensual…and warm. Always warm.

She loved that about him.

He gently sat her on the bed, stepping away briefly to shed the rest of his body armor and boots himself, leaving him in a thin blue shirt and black pants. His emotions were masked at the moment, eyes reading her face, the corners creased very slightly in concern. He was always very perceptive, knew when she was at the breaking point.

His fingers reached out to push back a damp auburn strand away from her face, gently caressing the side of her cheek in the process.

"You holding up okay…?" He asked, voice low and naturally rough. She smiled half-heartedly again, about to shrug all the problems off and laugh about them, when he silenced her with sharp look.

"Don't."

She glanced away, swallowing the words, the bitter laughter, the mask she wore to hide the vulnerabilities.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Shepard…" His voice was softer this time, aching, and she glanced back at him, mournful, open. She touched his arm and he came, slipping his sinewy frame into bed, fitting his larger body next to hers and tucking himself around her protectively, holding her close.

"Sorry…"

His fingers began to absently work the tension from her shoulders, the heat from his body enveloping her, chasing the chill from her bones. She grunted softly as he massaged, feeling the tightness ease. He shifted, hand sliding beneath her to flip her over onto her stomach so he could better access her abused body.

"Mmm…no need to apologize."

She inhaled roughly as his deft fingers found a particularly nasty knot in the muscles of her back, and he grunted in sympathy but kept going, forgetting nothing, leaving no spot untouched. He was always so thorough, so concerned over her well being, and he barely had to be asked.

She dozed briefly, lulled by his presence and the soothing feel of his fingers sliding over easing muscle. This was another of those moments…those rare moments where she found she could actually sleep. It wasn't usual for him to stay the night in her quarters. Generally he'd stay for a couple hours and then be forced to leave, either due to their arrival at their next mission, crew duties, or to better protect their beginning relationship…if it could be called that.

He would never show outright affection outside this room. He was formal, distant…but sometimes, when she needed it, he'd very subtly let her know he was there for her.

He chuckled softly in her ear, rousing her from her drowsy state, and she rolled over into him, catching him off guard as she snuggled into his warm chest, feeling sated and at ease. It amazed him still that she was so accepting.

Sleepily, she finally managed a reply to his question from before.

"Better now that you're here…" It was little more than a softly spoken murmur, but he caught it anyway and smiled.


	2. Passion

"_Better now that you're here…" It was little more than a softly spoken murmur, but he caught it anyway and smiled._

"Good," he purred, nibbling the lobe of her ear a bit playfully, running a warm hand up underneath her wrinkled t-shirt.

"Mmm…" She leaned over, fingers dancing over his plated skin, her mouth finding his in a warm kiss. Her arms stretched around his neck, lips melding, mashing together, heat blossoming between them. So quick, so strong, so intense…it became more passionate, more need filled. Tongues dueled and danced, flitting around sharp teeth. Her aqua eyes met his a second before she bit his lip, drawing a pleasured groan from him and sending a jolt down their spines.

Emboldened, his rough fingers found her hip and pulled their lower halves together, breath catching, pulses throbbing. She could feel the hard length of him through his thin pants, feel the rock hard muscles of his thighs flex and pull beside her.

"Do you know how bad I've wanted this, Shepard?" He whispered roughly across her skin, sending heated shivers racing done her spine, "do you know much I've wanted you?"

She gasped as his mouth found her throat, his knee sank between her legs, parting them, his weight heavy and hot above her.

"I think we must be crazy for doing this, crazy for wanting to, but I've wanted it for so, so long now…"

Her arms reached up, hands slipping beneath his thin tee, teasing hard muscle, plate-like skin, before her fingers deftly stripped it from him, revealing broad shoulders, narrow waist, and hard stomach. Her skin, cooler in comparison to his, molded against him, feeling heat and muscle.

She could sense the impatience in him, the predator fighting to come through, the burning need and insatiable desire pooling off of him. His skin was almost hot to the touch, pupils dilated. Her breath caught in her throat as his gaze pierced her through, jump-starting her heart as the feral hunger and burning need reflected through his dark eyes.

Shyness was gone.

Looking at him…Shepard felt liquid heat pool and center between her legs, her breath coming in short little gasps. She couldn't deny him, wouldn't deny him. No one had made her feel this way.

He sat astride her thighs now, muscles tense, eyes glittering in the semi-dark. She swallowed audibly as she watched him slowly reach down and stroke himself through his pants. She let out a shaky breath, her own pupils dilating in response, hips lifting instinctively up off the bed, rocking him slightly.

She wanted him.

God, did she want him.

His hand slid under her t-shirt, fingers teasing her stomach, lifting the fabric up and up as it traveled forward. She allowed him to peel it off, got pleasure in seeing him realize that she'd not put a bra on, laughed breathlessly to herself as he groaned deep in his throat and stroked himself a little more roughly in response.

She wanted him wild, wanted him out of control.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, capturing his attention. Her hips shifted again, rocking slightly, drawing him in. He bent over her, mouth hovering over hers and, restless, she captured his lips herself, tongue sliding across his, avoiding sharp teeth, inhaling his essence. His nostrils flared as they fought for dominance in the kiss.

But she wasn't in the mood to play nice.

Her hand slipped down as he towered above her, fingers alighting upon her target, forefinger brushing directly over his clothed tip. His hips jolted forward, a hiss of pleasure escaping as he broke the kiss, eyes wild. Purposely she touched him again, intimately, stroking gently. He growled, hips jerking, muscles flexing. His head lowered, teeth nipping warningly at her breast, distracting her as heat spiked and spiraled. His tongue laved roughly against her nipple and she squirmed beneath him, her touch upon him growing more demanding, unwilling to give in.

She bucked her hips, jostling him from his position, rolling so that she came out on top. Her lips immediately found his chest, licking and biting at his skin, encircling his own nipple and tugging it with her teeth. She ground down on top of him, rubbing hard. His face twisted into a harsh line of pleasure and he growled, attempting to toss her off in order to regain control.

She leaned back, putting her weight on his upper thighs, forcing him to lie beneath her, fingers deftly, quickly undoing the button of his pants.

"Shep-" He tried to growl off a warning, but her swift fingers had already parted the fabric and skimmed his engorged shaft, sending a jolt of pure ecstasy through him. He groaned aloud, embarrassingly so, hips lifting off the bed, hands fisting in the sheets. He panted, throbbing against her touch. She was making him so hot.

His teeth clicked together, feeling the heat and blood pool. He'd never been so dominated before, never been made to lie quietly beneath his partner. She was driving him crazy, driving him over the edge.

"Shepard." He growled dangerously, eyes flashing.

She smirked.

Smirked.

God, did she know she was playing with fire?

"Commander."

The sound of Joker's voice being patched over the terminal startled the two of them, freezing them both in place, hearts beating rapidly. Her nostrils flared as she took a steadying breath, eyes meeting Garrus's.

"Go ahead, Joker." How the hell she managed to keep her voice so steady she couldn't say.

"We're about 5 minutes away from the Normandy crash site. Just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks. I'll be there in 3."

She started to pull away from Garrus when he caught her by the wrist, stilling her, his dark eyes questioning.

The terminal clicked off and a heavy silence descended between them. Shepard couldn't meet his gaze. Had they gone too far? Would they regret this later? She didn't need the awkwardness, didn't need the avoidance, the uncertainty between them.

"Garrus, I…"

His teeth clicked together sharply, cutting her short, and he pulled himself into a seated position, sifting her off of his muscled legs and handing over her discarded t-shirt which she reluctantly pulled over her head.

"Don't. You have a job to do. We can talk about this later."

She flinched inwardly at his words and chanced a glance at his face. His own mask had descended and he was casually re-buttoning his pants and pulling on his tee. Pushing emotion aside, she quickly gathered her things, slipping on armor and letting the familiarity of the task soothe the frayed edges of her nerves. She had to get to the bridge.

When she turned toward the door, she was in command of herself again, all soft vulnerability gone and the air of tight restraint once again present. She could meet his eyes this time without pause, without question. She was the commander, the idol, the hero. The woman who needed no one. Her heart clenched at the thought but she ruthlessly shoved it away. It would be hard enough dealing with the crash site without letting in how lonely she already felt.

"Let yourself out when you're done."

She turned to leave, back straight, features schooled, fighting to show nothing.

"Commander."

She cocked her head, caught by the softness in his voice, and she lingered in the doorway but didn't turn around.

"…I'll be here when you get back."

The corner of her lip twitched in a sad semblance of a smile and then she was gone, the door hissing closed behind her.


End file.
